


Just a Taste

by crucifornication



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Drinking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Odaxelagnia, Sex for Favors, Vampire Bites, if you experience an erection lasting more than 3 hours please seek immediate medical attention, or vampire attention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 10:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18281090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crucifornication/pseuds/crucifornication
Summary: Trevor gets thrown out of a bar and is visited by Alucard, who carries with him a special but complicated request: to drink his blood.





	Just a Taste

It's not the first thud of his ass hitting the gravel, nor is it the thunk of his already dizzy head that rouses him from his stupor, but the sight of a rather curious shape against the side of the building as he is so unceremoniously escorted out of the fine, flea-infested establishment. Trevor can only spare a glance before he’s on the ground and being mocked as the door shuts. Figures the ingrates wouldn’t know how to treat a drunkard just minding his own damn business. Sure, he was a Belmont, but did these idiots even consider the fact that he saved them all from an apocalypse not even a year prior? After dusting himself off, he sighs and ambles away from the building. “Lowlife bastards,” he mutters.

It takes a few steps for his thoughts to start wandering back to the shape against the building. It looked-- Familiar? A stalking shape hidden deep within the shadows, lying in wait for the opportune moment to strike-- No, this felt… benign somehow, if a bit hungry. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, being piss drunk as he was.

Trevor stops in his tracks. He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but the curious nature of the shape pulls him back to the filthy tavern. His walk is slow, purposely sloppy, and overly cautious; if he is in danger, he wants his potential assailant to drop their guard.

“Trevor,” he mutters to himself, “why in God’s name are you heading back to the enterprise that you were so rudely ejected from, and why, dear sweet Trevor, are you seriously considering the familiarity of the amorphous blob of darkness on the side of the building, that you just happened to glance at?”

When the slayer reaches the wall he’s seeking, whatever attack he’s bracing for never comes. In fact, the shadow has disappeared from the darkness entirely. The wall just looks like as normal as you’d expect; dusty, dingy and dull with not even a speck of evidence to prove to himself that he was just imagining things. With a sigh, he mutters to himself once again. “Well done, Trevor. Congratulations on your drunk suspicions and idiotic anxieties surrounding a shadow. Well done indeed.”

As Trevor turns to leave, however, he slams into something. A some _one_ , in fact. The someone doesn’t budge even the slightest, whereas Trevor’s momentum and near-pickled nature causes him to stumble backwards a bit. He sees the gleam of blond hair in the moonlight and can only think of one person enthusiastic enough to stalk him in the dead of night.

“Do you always do that?” asked the someone.

“What? Do what, exactly?”

“Get shit-faced, kicked out of bars, and run into strangers?”

Trevor almost could not contain the enthusiasm in his body language at the thought of them being better strangers. “I don’t know, do you always stalk people from the shadows like some sort of menacing, undead creature?”

“Only when it's you I’m stalking.”

Trevor stares at him and sighs, exasperated but lacking the energy to indulge his acquaintance's ribbing. “After a year of hiding away on my estate, you decide to come find me? Very good to see you too, Alucard. Now, as much as I love being the victim of your dry, stick-up-his-ass brand of humor, I really do have to be getting somewhere,” he says. He attempts to push past the blond with as much drunken grace as possible, but an arm blocks his path.

“I do believe you gifted your property to me,” he begins, “and what’s kept you from stopping by for a drink? Too busy getting laid out flat on your ass, I suppose.”

Trevor’s eyes lazily and indignantly level his, heavily oozing disinterest. Really, the nerve of some people. As he pushes past again, Alucard interrupts him when he didn’t deliver a clever remark back.

“Wait, Trevor--”

“Oh, shove it up your ass. I'm in no mood to entertain you at present. Do call on me when you’ve decided to give it a damned rest, though.”

The vampire hunter continues on and pauses only when the dhampir interrupts his walk a final time.

“Trevor, I’m sorry,” he asserts. The apology catches him off guard, stopping him in his tracks.

“Trevor,” he begins again, “I sought you out for a reason.”

A scarred eyebrow flies up, “… and?”

After a moment's hesitation, the blond shifts his gaze to the building and then back at Trevor. “Not here.”

Rolling his eyes, the drunk shrugs and gestures widely with his hand in an ‘after you’ fashion, following the other towards the thicket of trees.

After about 20 minutes of walking, Alucard changes his course into a deeper part of the woods, walking with exceptional grace over the large tangle of roots underfoot. Trevor, thankfully, sobered up enough to be able to traverse this copse with little difficulty, managing even to keep his face off the ground the whole journey there.

As they reach a small clearing, dark still with the moonlight streaming through the trees, Alucard stops and turns swiftly to face him.

“Trevor--”

“Wait, I’ve got to take a piss. One moment--”

“You have got to be kidding me--”

“Won’t take but a moment! Fret not, you’ll give yourself wrinkles.”

Trevor disappears behind a tree for a moment and Alucard slumps, regretting his decision to choose Trevor of all people to help him.

There’s a full minute of silence and Alucard almost thinks that Trevor has run off, that is, of course, until he hears him come lumbering back.

“Ah, fresh as a daisy,” he jokes, smoothing out his pants. “Now then, what is it that you wanted, dear Alucard.”

The blond hesitates, looking down his nose at him. He clears his throat before he explains.

“Trevor,” he begins, “before I ask please understand that I believe you are the only one capable of assisting me in this manner, and that you are possibly the only person I could entrust with this task.”

Trevor stares at him, bored and impatient. “Yes? Do get on with it, I’m very busy being a vagrant at present,” he mocks with little mirth. “What, is there a swarm of swamp rats overtaking the castle you need me to help exterminate?”

“No,” he says.

“A manticore has turned your wonderful topiary to stone?”

“No,” again.

“Perhaps a kitten has gotten stuck on one of your scary looking spires.”

“No,” once more.

“Then _what_ , Alucard?”

“I need to feed from you,” he says simply.

That shuts Trevor up quicker than anything else has, possibly his entire life. What in God’s name does he _mean_ , ‘feed from you’? His hands twitch, an inconceivable amount of control being used to keep him from drawing his blade immediately, purely on reflex. If he wanted to feed, he could just… _feed_ , right?

“You…” he says slowly, “need to feed, from me.”

“That’s correct.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re the only one I trust not to die or kill me outright as soon as I bite you.” ‘Perhaps,’ he adds as a mental note.

“You do realize I’m a Belmont, right? Won’t you burst into flames or something from drinking even a drop of my blood,” he jokes.

“Not unless your blood is consecrated too,” he says dryly. “Even so,” adds the blond, “rumor has it that a Belmont’s blood is even better for a vampire than any other human’s. Could even give one superior strength in higher doses. Grind a Belmont’s bones up and it creates a _powerful_ aphrodisiac.”

Trevor clenches his fists, hands at the ready--

“I’m joking. Please unclench your jaw, you’ll ruin your winning smile. Besides, I’m not stupid enough to believe in a rumor started by petty cretins.”

With a brow furrowing deeper by the minute, Trevor stands his ground, arms folded across his chest; almost childlike in nature. “You know, for some reason, telling me you want to drink my blood and then joking about actually drinking my blood for power or some other ungodly shit puts me on edge. So sorry for that misunderstanding, dear Alucard,” he sneers.

Alucard sighs again while shaking his head, “no, I’m sorry, I’m not used to asking anyone for help. Please Trevor, I am being genuine. I do need this favor, and it does involve drinking your blood, but not for anything dubious; you have my word. If it’s any consolation, I’m much too weak to do any real harm to you anyway.”

Trevor takes a moment to study him. He is the same as he remembers: blond, gorgeous (bastard), tall (bastard), and stiff-- but he does indeed look tired. Maybe he _does_ just need his help. He can’t help the apprehension, but he feels compelled to assist regardless.

“But why do you need blood? I thought you were only half-vampire.”

“Half means I still have vampiric tendencies, does it not? Regular foods no matter how rich can’t satisfy the other half of me.”

“I suppose so, Alucard.”

“I can glamour you if you’d like--”

“No, thank you! I'd like to have my wits about me, if that’s alright. Besides, glamouring me would be much harder than you’d think.”

“Because you’re a Belmont?”

“Because I'm a Belmont,” he winks.

After a moment's hesitation, Alucard begins to stare weakly at him, visibly sagging. He wasn’t kidding-- the man does look like absolute _shit_ right now. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he looked about ready to, well, _drop dead_.

“Fine,” he concedes. “But as soon as I say stop you will _stop_ , Alucard. And don’t even think about trying to turn me, either. No thrall, no glamour, no nonsense.”

“Please, Trevor, you can only turn _willing_ victims. Everyone knows that.”

“Well, what if I bleed out?”

“You won't, I can just seal the punctures with my saliva. It’s actually very simpl--”

“Disgusting. Whatever, let’s just get this nightmare over with,” he grumbles.

As the Belmont surveys the clearing and chooses a suitable tree, he approaches it with Alucard close behind. Now that he’s so close, he can really feel his hunger’s magnitude-- he really must not have been feeding after all.

“So, uh. Any pillow talk before we begin siphoning my lifeblood? No? Excellent.”

Alucard rolls his eyes as he takes the lead, herding Trevor closer to the tree. “You’ll want something to brace yourself,” he mumbles to him.

Trevor strains to hear, but as he processes, his hips, then his shoulders, then the back of his head make contact with the rough bark of the oak. “Oof, a little rough for my first time, don’t you think,” he teases, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“Please, Trevor, I’m trying to control myself enough as it is. Take your shirt off so you don’t soil it.”

“Well, I’m nervous! Could you really blame me? And what do you mean, ‘controlling yourself’?” When Alucard refuses to indulge him, he groans. “Fine, fine, sorry. Do continue,” he shrugs. The brunette tucks his fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulls it above his head, shucking it off away from himself on a patch of nearby grass. He does his best to smooth out his perpetually wild hair before leaning quietly against the trunk.

Thanking whatever power he could think of for the blessed silence, Alucard closes his eyes and almost presses himself against Trevor, both of his hands sliding up his arms to cradle his shoulders in both hands. He meditates for a moment, carefully pacing himself, ready to savor the only meal he's going to have for the next year, memorizing the smells, the sounds, the taste in the air-- memorizing the smell of the grass, the trees, the gentle musk somehow blooming under the incredible stench of ale and whiskey coming from his willing participant. He holds back the thrall, his fingers twitching eagerly but keeping his claws retracted, blunt nails scratching against the scarred skin of his friend, the texture being committed to memory as everything else he experiences is filed away. He feels Trevor’s trepidation, smells the nervous sweat coming off of him, mingling with the whiskey and musk, and the sharp, quick beat of his heart as he leans closer. He hears more than sees the blood pumping through the man's veins as his right hand slides up to cradle the side of his face, his pinky and ring-finger following the blunt curve of his jaw, resting behind his ear as the rest of the fingers on his hand rest on his scarred cheek.

Alucard pauses again, his left hand finding purchase on his bicep as he leans farther in again, following the low thrum of his blood, chest pressed against Trevor’s. Despite the fact that Trevor is undergoing that which gives any good hunter a run for their money, he perseveres, staying as still as possible for him. He lets out a low, ragged breath as Alucard rests his lips against his neck, expertly resting above his jugular.

“You’re doing very well, Trevor,” he whispers. He feels a tremor come from the man against him and croons softly, hoping his words deliver some sort of comfort and reassurance. Unsure of whether or not it worked, he concentrates on his heartbeat, measuring the nanoseconds between each pump as they grew longer, his heart rate decreasing minutely.

Is this how he usually takes his victims? Soft murmurs and gentle kisses? Suave bastard— Any human would bare their neck for an act like this, thrall or not. It’s perfectly normal for him to be reacting to it this way; Right?

The dhampir squeezes his bicep once lightly as a warning, and Trevor braces for it. He slowly presses down with his teeth, easing his canines in slowly, making sure he paces himself with Trevor to keep him from accidentally flinching against him and freeing too much blood.

Trevor whimpers pitifully before biting his lip, shutting his eyes tightly. ‘Just stay still, it will pass soon,’ he reminds himself.

As Alucard begins to drink deeply, Trevor tries his best to steady himself, his knees immediately getting weak. The hunter curls his fingers in Alucard’s coat and inadvertently pulls him tightly against him, clenching his jaw. When he does, though, he feels Alucard rub his thumb up and down his cheek. The hunter focuses on the ministrations and breathes in and out, relaxing slightly but bracing himself against the tree as his blood rushes abnormally to and fro, the suction an odd sensation. It feels unnatural, but not awful. In fact, after a moment, he begins to feel warmer, when he _swears_ he should be feeling cold. He feels warm, comfortable, _relaxed_ — as if he were in a bath, the warm water prying the exhaustion from his aching muscles. His arms and jaw slack, and his vision spots, sending him into a panic until one particularly sharp gulp towards the end sends heat from the bite to the base of his spine. The warmth spreads, and each draw of blood just keeps building and roiling in his abdomen before it eventually pools at his groin. Before he even knows it, his trousers strain painfully against his cock. Well, _that_ certainly is unexpected.

At that moment, Trevor gasps, letting go of Alucard’s lapels to tap on his chest urgently, his voice hoarse as he begs him to stop. Alucard obliges immediately, extracting his fangs and licking the wound closed. God, the licking didn’t help his growing heat, brief as it was. The blond pulled away too swiftly, and without the added support, Trevor scrapes his bare back against the base of the tree, his ass hitting the ground hard for the second time that night. Trevor blearily blinks his eyes open and makes direct eye contact with the blond before looking down at his growing erection, Alucard’s eyes following his gaze.

“I...” began Trevor, “that was completely accidental, I assure you,” he pants, leaning his head back. First he gets thrown out of a shit-hole bar, then he has the misfortune of agreeing to be this prick’s dinner, and now his own prick is betraying him. What the hell else would happen tonight?

“Did you… Did you get that from my bite?”

“Well, I do think this old oak tree I’m leaning against is rather charming. I heard her whispering exceptionally lewd things to me earlier, the nasty little tart. Of fucking course it was from your fucking bite, you idiot; what the hell else would it be fucking from?”

“I just wanted to be sure. I’ve only ever fed from willing people _without_ your certain set of equipment up until now, mostly because it was easier to find them. I didn’t know this would happen. Unless of course, you have a particular thing for biting-- how interesting.”

The clinical nature of Alucard’s pondering pissed him off, but not enough to kill his erection, unfortunately. So _what_ , he has a thing for biting. One bite from any man or woman he’s taken to bed has never had _this_ dramatic of an effect on him. It had never been this _desperate_ before either. Just what in the hell was in a non-lethal vampire bite, anyway?

“Do you fucking mind, Alucard? As fascinating as my dick is, this fucking hurts!”

“Do you want me to help relieve it?”

Trevor snaps his head away from the tree, looking right at Alucard with his eyes narrowed as he watches him wipe the blood with practiced poise away from his mouth and chin. He couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. I mean, of course he wasn’t serious.

Was he?

“You… you don’t actually mean that, right?” A nervous laugh escapes from him as he pushes himself a little more upright against the tree.

“I mean what I say. I owe you for helping me.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to blow me,” he mumbles, ‘Although it is rather tempting,’ he thinks.

“I haven’t run out of hands, Trevor. And you don’t need to. I’m offering.”

After a moment of deliberation and searching his stoic expression, the desperation gets the better of him and he nods, shaky arms coming up to undo his belt. His clumsy fingers do nothing but fumble uselessly before Alucard shoves his hands away and swiftly, but gently, peals his trousers open.

Trevor’s erection throbs as it springs free, the release extracting a whine from him as he slides farther down the tree. Alucard gently pulls his pants down a bit as he examines his cock, appraising it. The blond kneels between Trevor’s legs and pulls them over his knees, sandwiching the limp body of the hunter between him and the tree. Trevor groans in anticipation and Alucard very poignantly takes his time, pulling his coat off and discarding it on top of Trevor’s shirt. Pulling his gloves off one finger at a time-- and God, why was that sexy? Finally, _finally_ he curls his hand around the shaft, and the action almost makes Trevor’s vision turn white.

The strokes are slow and methodical, evenly paced and _dry_ . God, but any touch right now feels good. He watches hungrily as those nimble hands work around him, not realizing that the blond has been watching him carefully the whole time until he finally looks _up_ , and fuck, does he look good on top of him. Maybe it's some powerful vampire aphrodisiac, or maybe he's more interested in Alucard than he originally thought, but he’ll be damned if the sight doesn’t almost drive him to tears. His eyes look even hungrier now than they did before, and he can start to feel pressure against one of his legs. Trevor tears his gaze from Alucard’s and hones in on the shape of his hard-on against the strain of the leather cage. He licks his lips and pants, mouth suddenly watering, a low groan escaping him when Alucard rounds his thumb against the tip of his dick, spreading the collected precum around slowly, eyes still trained hungrily on the Belmont.

Trevor licks his lips again before reaching up and weakly gripping Alucard's hair, gently pulling his head down to meet his. Alucard obliges gladly, pushing his face in faster than what he was prepared for, crushing his lips against Trevor’s. The brunette curls his hands into fists in Alucards long hair, kissing him greedily, bucking up into his hand desperately, keening into his mouth when the hand leaves. Something unzips and is peeled away before a stiff and hot arch connects with his cock, Alucard’s hand coming back to curl around him and this new contender while they lick and nip at each other desperately.

A frustrated whine escapes Trevor as the dhampir pulls away, sitting up to consider his willing prey in the moonlight, the rays dappling across his chest through the canopy. He grinds down hard and grips tighter, strokes becoming erratic as he leans down and captures Trevor’s mouth again, tongue languidly stroking against his, relishing the taste despite the ever present taste of stale booze on his tongue.

Trevor bucks up against him and groans, hips twitching as he tries to desperately set the pace, ready to cum, but Alucard pins his hips down with his own, leaning down with all his weight to keep him from thrashing

Trevor indignantly relents, gasping for air when Alucard pulls away. “Please,” he begs, head weakly thumping back against the rough bark.

As Alucard inclines his head in a shallow nod, he concentrates on the head, rubbing the pad of his thumb around the slit. Trevor bucks erratically as the heat in his belly coils, his balls tightening. A sharp intake of breath and he achieves his goal, spilling all over his belly. A moment after, Alucard shudders and unloads with him, loose, sloppy strokes finishing them both off through the end of their orgasm.

As Alucard breathes out slowly, eyes glazed and half lidded, he assesses his partner, reveling in the visage of Trevor’s messy hair, his swollen lips, his flushed skin and their cum snaking across his belly. He’s glowing, he thinks, and with a small chuckle, he gives him a smile.

But Trevor doesn’t smile, he looks hopelessly at his crotch, his cock still painfully engorged-- his head flies back with a defeated moan, confused and upset that his relief didn’t actually come. “Was that not enough?”

“... Interesting.”

He opens his mouth to curse at his blasted contemplative tone but holds his tongue, watching him lean down and grip the base of the shaft. He swallows dryly, tongue thick in his mouth. The beat of his heart was so loud in his ears, he almost couldn’t hear anything else. All he feels is the ghost of his breath before its suddenly _wet_.

Alucard, with just as much grace as before, leans forward and sharply looks up at him through his lashes, holding his gaze as his lips part and his tongue grazes the swollen head of his cock. Trevor inhales and twitches, the sight of someone so refined and beautiful doing something this illicit with him— _for_ him— driving him half-mad.

“A-Alucard—“ is all he can manage to say before another lap of his tongue flicks roughly at the slit this time, interrupting whatever words of protest or encouragement he had prepared.

Another lick and Trevor gasps, looking as if he’d been punched in the gut inconceivably sensitive this time around. Alucard just keeps watching him, his cheeks lightly dusted pink as his lips kiss the tip, his tongue once again slipping out, this time to run along the length of his shaft. Another maddening moment passes before he finally hums in amusement and wraps his lips around him, beginning the torturously slow descent of his mouth further down the shaft, and back up again.

Trevor's breath is erratic, hissing in an out as it passes through his clenched teeth. Each bob of Alucard’s head and his gaze held through his long, beautiful lashes brought him closer and closer to the edge, the heat from before returning to pool once again in his belly. His hips twitched and snapped up, desperately trying to fuck deeper into his mouth, only for a strong stiff arm to come up and hold him down. He groans in frustration, the pain of overstimulation and the burning need to cum driving him from his senses, causing him to struggle against the blond uselessly. Alucard grins around his cock and bobs his head faster, working his tongue around the sensitive head while his hand pumps him again, coaxing his ejaculation.

As if on cue, Trevor’s abdomen twitches and he bucks up one final time, cumming hard with a cry. Alucard can’t seem to pull off of him fast enough, though, as he partially paints his face, streaking up the middle all the way to his hairline, almost covering his right eye. The brunette pants, staring at him lazily, his vision swimming, as his dick slumps against his hip, finally satisfied, it seems.

Alucard seems less concerned than one would think about the state of his cum-streaked countenance, and pulls out the handkerchief from before, cleaning off his face and spitting out whatever did manage to land in his mouth.

Trevor also begins to uncoil himself from the tree, weakly sitting up for a moment before heavily falling back against it. Alucard watches him and smiles, tossing him his tunic before putting on his own coat once more.

He hums in amusement as Trevor clumsily tries to slip his arms and head through the designated holes unsuccessfully. Losing a little blood couldn’t have been _that_ hard on his body.

“What is it,” Trevor pants out, “you dumb, gorgeous bastard.”

“Nothing. Just admiring the view.”

“Cheeky,” he laughs. “Wasn’t enough to watch me squirming, I see.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Didn’t know that would happen, but I don’t think I’m entirely sorry it did.”

“Yes, perhaps we can try this again sometime.”

“That so? Well, when do you think you’d be hungry enough again?”

Alucard hums, pretending to be deep in thought. “Perhaps a year, maybe more.”

“A… A year? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he objects, “that’s … that’s too long.”

“Oh? Maybe I’ll have you as a snack the next time you visit then, Trevor. Does that sound better?... Trevor?”

Alucard leans over him, jostling his shoulder in a futile attempt at rousing the man.

“Trevor?”

“Ugh, shut up. _Please_. I’m so tired…”

Typical.

Tickled as he is, the blond drags the mostly soiled rag gently over Trevor to wipe the man clean, eyes sliding over the curvature of his muscles and scars, the dips and ridges of gouged and repaired flesh painting a mosaic across the taut skin. As Alucard slips the tunic over his head, Trevor wriggles into the fabric,  eyes still closed, letting it hang loosely off of him as he goes still again.

“Perhaps I’ll carry you back to the castle,” he says absentmindedly, picking his absurdly heavy body up and cradling him in his arms. “Can’t let you be eaten by wolves after you helped me, now can I?”

A groan from the hunter sounds against his shoulder before he opens his mouth: “Yes, yes, very noble of you. Now, keep it down, will you? I can’t relish in the afterglow if you ruin it by talking.”

“Fuck you.”

“It’s a date, then,” he mumbles, before finally falling asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Special thanks to Kat for helping catch any errors I had while writing this.


End file.
